Frayed Edges
by TheGallowayGirls
Summary: Quatre's an empath who encounters a bartender with a secret. A different take on the whole empath/telepath thing. AU. 3x4, with others 2xR, 1xH 5xM, 5xSP . Features Yaoi main pairing, but all others Het. Updated... finally.
1. Unsolved

**Frayed Edges**

Kassidy: AU. When psychic Trowa is recruited to help the Sanc City Police Department with a murder trial, he's brought face to face with empath/telepath Quatre and his own insecurities.

Kandice: It will of course be 3x4x3 in the end. With 1xR... yes, I said Heero and Releena- but please don't leave!- 2xH (Please, please don't leave!) 5xM and 5xSP, with others.

Kassidy: The warnings are our normal. That pretty much encompasses all genres. Angst, sap, fluff, romance, a dab of humor. Yaoi and het. And more than likely over-abuse of supernatural/psychic/empathy themes. Rated M for gratuitous use of blood, violence, NCS, and lemony-limey things. And plus, Wufei's having an affair.

Kandice: Bad Wuffy! Bad boy!

Kassidy: Now for the disclaimer.

Kandice: Is this really necessary? Do you honestly think that if we owned Gundam Wing, we would be doing this?

Kassidy: It is necessary. And maybe they do think so.

Kandice: Oh, well then. The Mother of All Disclaimers: We own nothing but a couple hundred dust bunnies (you're welcome to sue us for them... but you have to dig them out from under the bed yourself!). If we did own Gundam Wing, then by The Final Victors episode... Dorothy would be dead. Duo would have slapped some sense into Relena- literally. Trowa and Quatre would have more screen time together (And maybe a kiss or two ^_^ ). Someone would ask why a bunch of kids are running the world. Someone (NOT Duo!) would crack a couple jokes about sibling rivalry in regards to Lena and Zechs. Someone would raise the IQ standards for Oz soldiers (ever noticed how stupid some of them are?). Someone would have asked why Quatre's wearing pink. Someone would have pointed out that everyone in this show repeats themselves. Someone would ask why EVERYONE is following Heero, a suicidal, homicidal, mentally unstable and emotionally starved little boy. Someone would have pointed out that Noin is the true stalker of the show and not Relena. And SOMEONE would have put a pink flamingo sticker on Shenlong!

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Chapter One

Unsolved

Duo Maxwell looked on with objective cobalt eyes at the scene before him. A lesser man would have lost his lunch, or at the least turned away. But Duo Maxwell was not a lesser man. He watched, an odd clenching in his gut, but he did not turn away. He owed the girl that much.

He did not know her. She was another nameless faceless whore to the people around him. Just another death in a city full of crime.

But to Duo, she was someone's daughter. She was someone's sister. She was someone's friend. Duo could see past the sterotypes of the torn remains of her leather miniskirt. Past the scuffed knee-high boots and fishnet stockings. Past what other's saw, and to the fifteen-or-so year old beneath it all.

He could see the blood and see the crime. But he couldn't see a reason for it.

"No ID, no identifying marks. No murder weapon that we can see."

Duo cut his eyes across at his partner. It was late at night, towards the end of their shift, and Heero's chocolate hair was wild, his Prussian blue eyes dark and shadowed. They'd been partners since their rookie year... and that was going on two years ago. Duo knew just about every nook and cranny of his partner and friend's mind. Heero was, inside, torn up over this. It was a horrible crime.

"What's the CSIs say?"

"To early to be sure, but there is evidence of rape, sodomy. Cause of death is probably strangulation."

"Sodomy?"

Heero Yuy responded with a curt nod.

"Poor girl was beaten half to death, too," a passing CSI put in, "Before she was strangled. And it looks like she put up one hell of a fight."

"We've gotta help her," Duo whispered, for Heero's ears alone.

He received another nod. That was their job. To speak for those who could no longer speak for themselves. It was a sad, depressing and hard job.

But someone had to do it.

*Five Years Later*

Duo Maxwell looked back over the files. He and Heero were both up for promotion to Lieutenant. They had seven years experience on the force under their belts, and an impressive track record to go along with it. But there was one mar on that record. Duo frowned at the case in question. To date, it was their only unsolved murder. Their only unresolved crime. Seven years and they still didn't even know the girl's name.

A shadow fell over him.

"Come to bed, dear."

He blinked up at the woman standing behind his chair. The lights were off, the only illumination from a desk lamp and the digital clock that read twelve thirteen. Her dark eyes twinkled in the dim light, her hair midnight dark. She placed her left hand over his, sitting on the desk, and Duo stared at the matching silver bands and the twinkling diamond of her engagement ring. Three years now that those two rings had resided upon her left hand, that it's mate resided upon his own. Three years of happiness.

But his work always bothered her. He devotion to it. She knew he loved her more than anything, but he knew she felt a little worried about his job. She wanted someone else to do this work, but she would never stop him doing what he wanted. It was a good system... but the stress was wearing on them.

"Come to bed. She'll still be there in the morning. You can't help anyone in this state, Duo. You need rest. Look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow."

He smiled weakly at her as he rose, then pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"You're right, Hils. Always were."

tbc....


	2. Not A Psychic

**Frayed Edges**

Kassidy: Here's Chapter Two, right behind the first one.

Kandice: And remember, we don't own GW!

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Chapter Two

Not a Psychic

"Why don't you try one of those psychic people?"

Heero looked up at his girlfriend. Her honey hair shone in the afternoon light. He and Duo were sitting outside on the steps of the PD, enjoying the sandwiches Releena had brought them. She was always doing things like that. One of the reasons Heero loved her whereas he'd never loved another human being.

She was beautiful, innocent, and maybe a bit naive. But she was intelligent, brave, and incredibly loving and giving. Duo blinked at her.

"Huh?"

"A psychic. Y'know, like on that TV show Medium? I mean, nothing else has worked, so what is there to loose? My cousin Dorothy knows someone like that. She said he helped them solve a case or two in New York."

"Dorothy's the lawyer from Manhattan, right?" Heero asked. Releena nodded, her sky blue eyes soft and bright.

"Y'know, she's gotta point, 'Ro," Duo said, mulling it over. "We don't have anything to loose. This is a seven year old case with no fingerprints, no DNA. We don't even know who she is. It might be a crack, but it could pay to look into this idea."

Heero nodded silently. Releena smiled. "Dorothy's coming for Mr. Merquis's conference Friday. I already talked her into bringing her psychic friend."

Duo grinned. "Girl... are you always two steps ahead of us?"

Releena's smile was blinding.

"Of course. What are girlfriends for?"

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Three days later found Heero and Duo waiting at the quite local bar at a secluded table. Each had a water, forgoing liquor since they were technically still on duty. It was Friday, and Dorothy's friend- a professional criminal profiler that might have helped them anyway- was supposed to be meeting them in only a few minutes.

Heero kept his eyes open for their help. Duo, however, was drifting off to the lull of the background music. His mind meandered from thing to thing, picking out odd little details. Like the fact that _O'Connels_, an Irish pub, was playing a soft New Orleans jazz. He noticed how the window was cracked in the bottom left hand corner. He pondered the mix-matched bar stools and polished silver chandeliers. He wondered briefly why the bartender was wearing driving gloves, but the caramel haired man was soon forgotten as a blond appeared in his way.

"Dectectives Yuy and Maxwell?"

Duo blinked up into blue eyes. No... blue-green. There was a faint ring of green around the outside of the iris.

"Yes?" Heero asked, unphased.

The blond held out his hand.

"Quatre Raberba Winner. My good friend Dorothy Catalonia said you might could use my services on an cold case."

"Lord, could we!" Duo exclaimed, shaking the offered hand. Heero ignored it. Quatre sat down across from them.

"I've heard alot about mediums. Maybe you can help us." Heero commented.

Quatre laughed. "Maybe. Except I'm not a medium. Mediums communicate with the dead. I don't do that. I _can't_ do that."

"Alright. Psychic, then," Duo said.

Another light laugh. "Not a psychic either," Quatre said. "Psychics, like clairvoyants and such, see things. I don't."

"Well," Heero said, annoyed. "If you can't do anything, why did Miss Catalonia and Relena Darlian recommend you?"

"Because I am an empath. A fairly strong one."

"A whats-eth?" Duo asked. "Like a telepath? You can read my thoughts?"

"No," Quatre shook his head, slightly annoyed and slightly bemused. "I feel emotions. Telepaths hear your exact thoughts at that moment. I feel the emotions associated with it. In some ways it's better. Some ways, it's not. You have to be a fairly good at reading people anyway, else it's deceptive, because one's thoughts don't always match one's emotions. I've never actually tested my range, but it's quite larger than most, I think. And I usually try to block everyone, so I can at least act normal. And like I said, I'm a fairly strong empath. Probably the strongest one known at the moment. Sometimes, I can get a clearer reception of someone and it's almost, almost like telepathy. I can use emotions to piece together a person's thoughts, and overall personality sometimes."

"Prove it," Duo dared.

Quatre sighed, then nodded. "Fine. All I have to do is focus on someone. Just think really hard about one thing."

Duo schooled his features, closed his eyes, and with every bit of mental power he had, focused solely on his wife, Hilde.

"Love and happiness," Quatre supplied almost immidiately. "Using that, I'd guess it's probably the woman who put that ring on your finger."

"Anyone could guess that," Heero pointed out.

"I'm not done," Quatre frowned sharply. "There's regret along with it. Tiny hints of anger and dis-content. Passion, devotion, in equal amounts. But it's all overshadowed by the love. I'd say that maybe she doesn't like something. Your job? Maybe your friends or something? And maybe there's something she did you didn't agree with. Little things, normal things. But it's growing bigger, and you need to stop it before it gets out of hand. The love overshadows it all now, but eventually, somethings going to give."

Duo opened his eyes. They were dark and troubled. "He got it a hole-in-one, 'Ro," he whispered. Heero knew about Hilde's dislike of his job, and his own regret that he couldn't find it in himself to quite the force.

"I think this guy's for real," Duo surmised.

Heero nodded, and the two took turns in relating the case they wanted to re-open. Quatre nodded, following along. When they finished, Quatre frowned and shook his head.

"I don't see how I can help. The other cases I worked on... they already had suspects. I could pick out which one was feeling guilty. Which ones were angry. That's how I helped them. I just did a reading on their suspects, like a human lie detector. You don't have any suspects. Technically, you don't even have a name for your victim."

"We've called her Jane," Duo added. "Jane Doe."

"Maybe you would come by the precinct and look at the file?" Heero prompted. "Even if your empathic abilities can't help, maybe you could piece together what kind of person would do this? Who we should be looking for in our suspects?"

Quatre nodded. "Of course. I'd be happy too."

"Good. Duo... you and I need to return. We still have other cases to work on."

"I'll be by tomorrow. It's late, and I'm feeling a bit hungry," Quatre said. "How's the food here?"

"Pretty good," Duo nodded as he rose. "If you like hot stuff, try their wings. If not, they've got killer subs."

"Soup's good," Heero commented absently as he and his partner left the blond standing beside the now vacant table.

Quatre sighed, and made his way to the bar.

tbc....


	3. Not Like The Rest, pt 1

Kassidy: Short and sweet, just the way we like it.

Kandice: Don't forget... we own nothing!

Kassidy: Shut up already and let them read.

Kandice: Okay. Shutting up.... now!

**Chapter Three**

**Not Like The Rest**

Trowa Barton worked the bar two nights a week. Four others were spent at the local zoo where he was one of the keepers for the big cats. He wouldn't work at the bar, except that it was his sister's and she really needed cheap help this time of year.

One met myriads of interesting people working the bar, and had Trowa been a social person, he might have liked it. As things stood, Trowa had as much people skills as a doorknob... and he hated the bar.

And not just because of his rather anti-social personality. Rather, it was caused by the same cause as his personality. Trowa Barton was, in his own words, a freak.

Physical skin contact with just about _anything_ was _not_good in his opinion. And physical contact with another person? Oh, he didn't even want to think about that. So, he always wore gloves, long pants and long sleeves- even in the height of the incredibly warm summers of Sanc. It wasn't foolproof, but it was some measure of protection. And all of this made him a freak.

He filled the order for the old man down at the corner, his gloved fingers sliding the glass down even as he kept an eye on the rather over-intoxicated bald man trying to eat the Clam Chowder he'd ordered- trying being the operative word in that sentence. It was rather slow for a Friday, even for this early. He had maybe seven or so people in all. Not counting the two men in uniform who'd just left. Their companion, a rather slender young blond that seemed maybe a few years younger than Trowa himself, walked to the bar and slid onto one of the cracked vinyl covered stools.

"What'll it be?" he asked, not really caring how he sounded. Cathy didn't pay him for outstanding customer service and rapport. She payed him to mix the drinks.

The blond smiled, and Trowa met his eyes. They were a bright crystal blue, ringed by sage green. A beautiful color. "My friend told me that the soup's good."

"So I've heard," he murmered. "Potato or Clam Chowder?"

"Potato, please. And if you have any bottled water, I'll have of those, too. Please and Thank you."

Trowa almost smiled at the very polite manners. Few people in this place treated him with any respect at all. Just _another_reason he hated this job. Trowa sent in the order to the cook, then pulled a bottle of Aquafina from the under-counter fridge and set it on the bar.

He retreived the soup, settled it in front of the blond and resumed keeping track of everyone else. But he kept coming back to the blond. There was something about him that was different. Not like all the others, the thought. There was something in that smile, in that tenor voice. He spent a few moments thinking of how he maybe could start a conversation with him, find out a little more about him.

Being plagued by his curse since early pre-teens, Trowa'd mostly always been shy and anti-social. And so, while he'd never given much thought to his sexuality... or sex in general, really... he'd wondered a bit. Like any young boy would, naturally. And he'd come to the conclusion long ago that he really wouldn't care if his partner was female or male. But that wasn't saying much, since Trowa didn't like people in general. A few people had turned his head, but he'd quickly, quickly learned that to kiss, or do anything else, touching had to be involved. So that settled that. Trowa was a twenty-six year old virgin.

Since he was pondering how to try his hand at flirting with this intriguing blond, he wasn't paying attention as much as he could have been to everything else. So he didn't see the drunk at the bar slip off of the stool, or his wild attempts to regain his balance, thus knocking over his drink and sending the bowl of chowder flying through the air.

Before Trowa could even blink, he was coated from forehead to navel in the goopy, now cold soup. One of the waitresses rushed to help the customer. (Hopefully to get his check paid and get him OUT of there.) Trowa retreated to the far end of the bar, near the blond. He grabbed a towel and swiped the mess of of his shirt, then ran the rag over his face until it felt like he'd gotten all of it.

The blond was trying hard, it seemed, to repress giggles.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, catching Trowa's glare. "It's just you never saw it coming. And then... te,he... the look on your face was so adorable. And... and wait... you've missed some..."

He leaned up out of his seat, reaching across the bar. Trowa had no time to move, and was so surprised (and maybe still a little shell-shocked from his drenching) he couldn't even think to move. All he could do was brace himself for the flood of memories, thoughts, premonitions and visions that always, always _invariably_ followed any physical contact with another human.

He felt the brush of the smooth, warm fingers against his cool cheek. He felt that little tingle of electricity that always preceded the hurricane of information, stronger this time than usual, and then... nothing. The blond must have felt that tingle, too. Blue green eyes narrowed sharply, that mouth opened in a silent gasp before pink lips frowned, but the finger remained gentle as it wiped away a dollop of chowder. His own emerald eyes met and were held by that sharp gaze.

"Hey, Trowa, I think you can knock off for the night," came a woman's voice. A redhead came behind the bar. "I'll watch the bar 'til Hank comes in."

"Ah... um.... yeah. Thanks, Sis." Trowa turned and ran. Rushing past his sister, Trowa ran away from the blond. Away from the first physical touch he'd felt without the flood of knowledge since he was eleven.

tbc....


	4. Not Like The Rest, pt 2

Kandice: Whoo-hoo! Chapter Four! We're actually doing better at this posting thing than we thought we would.

Kassidy: Alright, don't jinx it, babble-mouth. Just do your disclaimer thing and let's get on with the story.

Kandice: Kay! Anyway, me'n' Kass don't own GW. We just borrow them to play with and return them (mostly) unharmed. Suing us will just get you a bunch of dust bunnies... and you've probably got enough of those of your own.

Kassidy: Girl, what is it with you and those stupid dust bunnies....

**Chapter Four**

**Not Like The Rest, Part Two**

It took nearly two hours of charm, half-truths, and tiny white-lies for Quatre to wrangle all the information he needed from the redhead, Cathy, about her brother, Trowa.

So, just after two hours later, Quatre was knocking on the man's door. Something had happened. When he wiped away that dollop of soup, it had felt like something had slammed into the shields he kept up to protect his mind from other's emotions. Or maybe like someone had set the nozzle of a super-suction vacuum cleaner to it. Either way, it was highly unusual... and possibly dangerous.

This worried Quatre for two main reasons. First, his empathy did not work on touch. Touch had never affected or been connected to his gift. Second, as if the situation itself wasn't strange enough, the man's behavior had been downright odd.

The door opened a bit, and he was met with a startled face.

"You!" the bartender gasped, emerald eyes going wide.

Quatre nodded. "Me," he agreed. "You and I need to talk."

The door opened the rest of the way, albeit a bit hesitantly. "Who are you?" Quatre asked. "And what happened back there?"

"Trowa Barton... and how the hell am I supposed to know?"

Quatre frowned. The man's voice was soft, but annoyed and a bit angry Quatre supposed if some weird guy showed up at his door demanded things, he'd be annoyed and angry, too. So he smiled, and lightened his tone, trying to get him to relax. "What happened? And I didn't mean your name. I learned that from your sister. I mean... what _are_ you?"

"I could ask you the same, since you seem to know more than I do."

Quatre nearly grinned, despite the oddity of the situation. He valued candid and honest opinions. And while he'd thought before that this man was perhaps a bit shy... an odd quality for a bartender to be sure... it seemed like he was wrong, and that away from public, away from crowds... he was candid and honest with a good dose of sarcasm thrown in. So, Quatre thought it only fair to be honest in return.

"I am an empath. I can feel someone's emotions. On purpose and not. To keep it from happening at unfortunate times, I've created a mental... sheild. A barrier of sorts against feeling other's emotions. Usually, that sheild works just fine, and I don't even notice it until I want to- it's just a background hum, not like turning it off, but more like ear plugs, sort of. Two hours ago, though, it felt like someone drove a freight train into it. It happened when I touched you. And I am not boasting when I admit that I'm very observant. I'm finding it hard to pinpoint an exact reading of your emotions. Confusion is the most prominent. And I've noticed that you are wearing gloves and long clothes, like you're afraid of touching something. Now, I don't know why but I'm assuming it has something to do with what happened? Am I right?"

"Huh?" A blank green stare.

Quatre blinked, then flushed when he realized he'd just spoken without hardly taking a single breath. "Sorry. I tend to get straight to the point. But I want to know what happened? What are you?"

"I... I'm not like the rest," Trowa said simply, turning, going back into the apartment. Quatre followed, having no qualms about just entering someone's home. The door had been open. To him, it was an invitation.

"I think that's a given. Neither am I. So what exactly sets you apart from the others?"

"It's complicated. When I touch an object, I can _sometimes_tell what's happened around it. It's sporadic and uncertain, though. Dosen't happen much anymore." He paused, as if considering how much to reveal. Then he continued. "But everytime I touch someone. Or someone touches me... I can hear what they're thinking. I can hear what they thought yesterday, the day before. I see their memories. I can see them. It's been like that since I was eleven. But... not you. There was that numbing, tingling sensation.... then nothing."

Quatre nodded silently, pondering. He'd felt that feeling in his hand. Like he'd fallen asleep with his head resting on it. He followed Trowa through the apartment, and at his host's wave, perched himself upon a stool at the breakfast bar. After a long moment, he finally spoke.

"That was energy transfer, I'm guessing. I've read about people like you, gifts like that. Psychometry, I believe is what they call it when you receive visions by touching an object. It's a type of clairsentience.

"Clair-whatsit?"

"Clairsentience. You know about clairvoyance?"

A nod.

"Yeah, well, Clairsentience is just the broader picture. Clairvoyance is seeing, clairaudience is hearing. Psychometry is a specific type of clairvoyancy- to an extent, so is my empathy. I've read about all of this stuff. But never about what happens when two different kinds of psychics meet. This is... extraordinary." He rested his head in his hands, leaning on the bar. "I've lowered my Shields almost completely, focusing soley on you, trying to get a reading. And I simply can't. No matter how hard I try, there's a fog around your aura that I can't get past. Every now and then, I can catch a glimpse, but that's it... then it's gone."

"How exactly does this gift of yours work?" Trowa asked. He leaned across the bar a foot or so away from Quatre. His emerald green eyes seemed distant, but he looked genuinely intrigued and interested. "And your sheilds? Does it keep your power contained?"

Quatre laughed quietly. "Not quite. I usually don't explain this part well enough. It's difficult to put into words. Most people just accept that it's a shield. Hm... how to explain? It's like... I'm in a dark room, carrying a lantern. The light is just enough for me. Everyone around me is carrying lanterns, just going about their business. But when they get near me, that lantern becomes a flashlight and they point it straight at me. I don't have to reach out. Their emotions come to me. They do it, not me. Empathy's not really an active gift- I don't have to _use_it- to actively look for someone's emotions, it just happens; like I'm a magnet for emotions. My shield... it's just that. Like sunglasses, I guess. The light still reaches me, but it's dull and diluted. It's not like they explain it in the books and stuff... like a glass wall or anything. It's more like a curtain, or better still... window blinds. You know... it' blocks out most of the sunlight, but a little will always seep through? That's the way my shields are."

"Interesting." He was frowning. "But... I still..."

Quatre nodded. "Of course. It's alot to understand. I can give you some websites, if you'd like to look it all up for yourself. And... I'd like to help you. It was frustrating and near deadly for me before I met Lucrezia. She's a clairvoyant in the classical sense... she sees different versions of the future, usually in the form of dreams or glimpses in a mirror or something. She's into palmistry and other things, as well. If not for her... I don't know how I'd have coped. I can't beleive you've grew up this long without ever really knowing anything about your ability. Didn't you ever think to look on the Internet?"

"No. I simply tried my best to ignore it, hoping maybe it'd go away. But it didn't. And eventually I learned to cope for the most part."

"You learned to avoid it," Quatre corrected. "There is a difference between avoiding it and accepting it. I'd like to help you. I'd like to see if maybe there isn't a way for you to have shields like mine... not just your gloves and clothes. I'd like to see if there's a way for you to control this."

Trowa blinked at him, as if trying to decide if this was all some elaborate trick.

"Alright," he said finally, green eyes meeting blue. "Help me."

tbc........

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Kassidy: Don't sue us if our explanations are exactly accurate. We are not parapsychologists. All information stated in this story has been found on the net and from our friend Dana's mind.

Kandice: But hey... I think it's pretty accurate. And this chapter moved kinda fast, with alot of descriptions and talking. From here, it kinda picks up. Next chapter you get to meet Dorothy... and maybe even Wufei. And Noin will be showing up soon, too.

Kassidy: Enough info... let's get back to writing it!

Kandice: Kay! Bye! Don't forget to review!


	5. Here To Help?

Kandice: Here you go... chapter five of Frayed Edges.

Kassidy: No comments for this one. Enjoy!

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Chapter Five

Here To Help?

"You what?" The blonde demanded shrilly, hands on hips. Her eyes glinted furiously at the man sitting in front of her on the end of the hotel bed.

"I'm staying in Sanq," Quatre replied.

"Quatre, you cannot be serious. What about the Smithsonian? What about the cases? What about ME?" She was very close to pacing in frustration. Quatre sighed. The woman was very childish in her need for attention.

"You'll be just fine, Dorothy. And if it is very very important, I can always come back for a night or two to help with suspects. As it is, I can do all my profile work right here."

"Is it that case 'Lena asked you about? Is that the reason for this?"

"Among other things. I can't leave. There is someone here who needs my help."

"Who? What do they need your help with? Damnit, Quatre. Talk to me."

"I can't, Dorothy," he sighed. "You know how Lucrezia was there for me when I needed her?"

"Ah..." Dorothy's gray eyes widened with understanding. "This was why you were gone so late last night?"

He nodded. "There are things I need to do. I am obligated. I can't just leave."

"You'll be staying where?" She raised an eyebrow, thinking she'd finally picked out a flaw.

Quatre smirked. "Having a millionaire for a father can have it's perks. Drop the name 'Winner' here and there and within six hours you have yourself a lease to a fully furnished penthouse apartment."

Dorothy rolled her eyes. The man didn't like to throw his name around, or his money. But boy, when he did.... no one could stand in his way. And she did know when to cave. "Have I ever told you how unfair it is that you got the looks, the brains, the brawn, and the money in the family?"

Quatre laughed. Dorothy was a distant cousin on his mother's side, coming from old money herself. Her grandfather still held the title of 'Duke' in Great Britain. Dorothy had almost every man in the country swooning after her, with her luxuriously long blond hair, sharp intellect, dry wit, and curvy body. And as far as money went, Dorothy herself easily had just as much 'family' money as he did, and probably more self-made money than he.

"Guess there's no talking you ought of this, neh?" She sighed, resigning herself.

"Not a chance, cousin dearest."

"Didn't think so. When you set your mind to something, nothing can drag you away."

"The Winner charm," he winked.

"More like the 'bulldog syndrome'," she grumbled with a smile. Quatre would be fine. She knew it.

Quatre could take care of himself.

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"No shields?"

Quatre's eyes narrowed at this revelation from his new 'student'. "There has to be some way to stop it," he said, more to himself than Trowa.

"The only way is these," Trowa shrugged, holding up a hand, covered in a black driving glove.

Quatre shook his head. "There has to be some other way. My shields rely solely on my ability. Have you tried not seeing things?"

Trowa sent a scathing glare across the table. "Do you think I'm stupid? Of course I've tried. For all the good it's done. There's no way to stop it. And I can't tell anything from the visions. It's blurry and all it does is give me a killer migraine."

"There must be some type of shield there, else why can can I not sense you?"

"Maybe my ability is a shield in and of itself, eh? Ever think of that? Maybe you just can't sense me because I'm psychic or whatever you call it."

"No," Quatre said, not grasping the heat or annoyance in that voice. "I can sense Lu just fine, and she's a pretty strong clairvoyant. There must be something else here."

Trowa sighed, anger bleeding away to be replaced with pure annoyance.

"I thought you were here to help me? This" he waved a hand, "is not helping. I'm very close to throwing you out of my house and forgetting that this all ever happened."

"That certainly won't help," Quatre murmured. Trowa couldn't help but smile at that.

"Alright, then," he said. "Talking is getting us nowhere. We need to do something."

"If only I knew what you were thinking," Quatre said. "If only I knew how you felt, how your ability worked.... oh, there's so much I need to know."

Trowa sat silent for a moment, the tugged at the glove on his left hand, removing it. "Here," he reached out and before Quatre could process what he was doing, before Trowa could second guess himself, Trowa gripped Quatre's wrist.

Both young men felt that curious little tingle, but nothing more. For Trowa, there was simply nothing. But Quatre discovered something.

"I was right," he breathed. "This is odd. I think... it's alot like mine. Your ability, that is." Trowa went to remove his hand, but Quatre's clamped over it, Aqua eyes meeting Emerald. "No. Wait. It's like your pulling at me. You naturally attract this," he said. "Like I naturally attract emotions. Magnetism, almost. But you don't feel anything from me?"

"No," was the reply. "Nothing at all." Trowa most certainly wasn't going to mention the way his mind was reacting to the contact. And he most definitely wasn't going to mention his more physical reactions. Quatre was the first friend he'd ever had... and he wasn't going to scare him off so soon after they first met.

"Just... wait a moment. I'm going to lower my sheilds."

Trowa tensed, started to jerk away with the fear those words inspired. Quatre shifted so that both of his hands held onto Trowa's, keeping the contact. "Not all the way," he chided. "Just a bit. Like peeling away layers. The moment you feel anything, I need you to tell me, alright?"

Trowa nodded tensely.

"Good. Here we go..."

Trowa waited. Nothing. Another moment then still nothing, but then, he felt it. Unlike usual, when things hit him all at once like a freight train, one jumbled up mess, it was different. This was like looking a book or library, only through a thick, fogged up window. He could see something, but it was vague and blurry. And not a mess, but more organized. More concrete, yet intangible than anything he'd ever sensed before. He didn't say anything, but tried to see harder through that mirror.

"Ow," Quatre breathed, but the window cleared up just a little more. He could here the voices, see just a bit better, but it was still distant and un-clear. It was like a library. He could see different things, like he normally did, but it wasn't all flying at him at once. He chose a different book, a different window and looked harder.

"Ow," Quatre said, a little louder. "That hurts."

"Sorry," Trowa said. "It's like looking through a prism or something. This is so not what I'm used to. I can see so many things, but it's all unclear."

Quatre thought about this, then dropped his shields a little more. With every layer he dropped, the emotions of the other man became clearer. They were still clouded, but every now and again, he could feel them better.

Trowa concentrated on the view in front of him. An air of tension surrounded it, thoughts of remorse and sadness. He looked on.

"Your sister," he said suddenly. "You still regret her death."

This time, it was Quatre who jerked back, eyes wide with disbelief. Trowa stared a him, remembering the memory he'd seen. It was clearer than the rest, which made him guess it was stronger, more important somehow.

"Iria," Quatre sobbed in a whisper. "I'm sorry. I... I can't do this. I've got to go."

TBC....

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Kassidy: Maybe the next update won't be so slow getting out. School is driving us bonkers right now.

Kandice: Yeah. I have like three reports due, and about five exams coming up soon. Not to mention current homework and stuff. I hate school- but not even a whole month left! Yay! And I'll be done with high school forever!!!!

Kassidy: Thank goodness- but don't forget that university starts in the spring. And we'll both be going to different schools, then.

Kandice: Don't remind me. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter... and please review! We love reviews!


	6. Letting Him In

Kassidy: Alright. Here we go. Now it's getting interesting.

Kandice: Did we have to kill Iria, though? I like her.

Kassidy: It's nessesary for this story. I'll make it up to you, alright?

Kandice: Okay. Anyway, here's chapter six!

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**Chapter Six**

**Letting Him In**

*bring, ring, ring*

"Hello?" Startled awake at four in the morning, Quatre snatched up the phone.

"Quatre Winner!" screached the voice on the other end. "Care to explain why a perfectly good vision of your future turned into a horrible nightmare?"

"Huh? Lu? What?"

"For about the past week or so, my vision of your future has been pretty bright. I've seen you happy and smiling and content. But last night, it changed. I saw you dead, Quatre. Murdered, lying in a alleyway, beaten, raped, and stabbed to death. Whatever you did yesterday effected your future in a really bad way. You need to fix it."

"But... Lu... slow down. What are you talking about? I didn't do anything."

"Did you have a disagreement with someone? An argument or something. Is there any reason someone would want you dead?"

"No. Well, sort of, but Lu, Trowa wouldn't kill me. It's not in him."

"Well maybe it still effected your future, Quat. Think about it. If Trowa was going to be with you, and for some reason he wasn't... you could die. There's a million possible ways for that to be bad. You've gotta fix this thing with him."

"My own psychic advisor?" Quatre asked dryly. Hearing someone say you were going to die was certainly a way to wake up really quickly.

"No. Someone who's worried about you dying," she retorted, her voice serious and concerned. "What the hell did you fight about anyway? That's just not like you. Hold up... Trowa? Isn't he the Clairsentient you mentioned?"

"Yes. We... we tried a little experiment to see if it was my sheilds that kept him from sensing me."

"Oh. Be careful with those experiments, Quatre. Our abilities are not to be taken lightly. That's a very dangerous think to do."

"I know, Lu," he replied. "But... he saw Iria. He saw my memories of her."

"Oh.." was the soft response. "I can see why you'd be upset, Quat. But this is life and death, here. Iria wouldn't want you to die because of her, because of her memory."

"You're right, but what am I supposed to do?"

"Fix it. You could always try letting him in, making him understand. Stop being so alone and let someone in for a change."

_~_

Trowa wasn't exactly sure what to make of things when his doorbell rang at six that morning only to reveal Quatre Winner standing at his door. He had felt certain that somehow he'd scared the blond empath away by prying at the memory that he'd seen. So it was a shock to see his new friend again so soon.

"Uh... Quatre. Please, come in. I... I wasn't expecting you..."

"I'm sorry about how I acted last night," Quatre said, stepping into the room. "But you must realize that it isn't easy... dealing with... Iria." It ended on a rough voice, a gasp.

"She was your sister. It is understandable. I'd be devastated if I lost Cathy."

"Trowa. It's not just that she died. It's how she died. Why."

"You blame yourself. It's quite understandable..."

"No, Trowa. You must listen to me. It's more than that."

Quatre reached back, gripped Trowa's wrist, above the glove, below the sleeve of his sleep shirt. "Look," he said, lowering his Shields in faster leaps than he had the day before.

"Quatre... no. It's too... too fast. No.. I can't..."

Images were rushing at him from every angle, just like they normally did. He tried to break away, but Quatre gripped tighter. Suddenly, there was a change. All the images and memories retracted in a flurry. But not for long, for some of them pressed forward with a vengeance.

Trowa staggered mentally, and he suddenly clasped at the hand holding his arm, as Quatre started shoving memories, emotions, thoughts at him. They all centered on a single focus... Iria. Trowa tried to understand what he was being shown. He'd never really tried before. Mostly, he just wanted to ignore and forget, but now he wanted to understand.

Iria had been Quatre's sister, older by some seven or so years. After their mother's death and their father's obsession with the family business, Iria had pretty much had to raise Quatre. She was a sister, a mother, a friend, a confidant. She'd been Quatre's everything.

Until she'd went to the supermarket one day when Quatre was twelve. She'd gone to get him some chicken soup because he was sick. She was there because of him. Trowa could feel the guilt surrounding the memories. Quatre blamed himself.

Iria's stopped at the bank to use the ATM first, and had been caught inside when the robbers struck and took everyone hostage. According to what doctors and police and news reporters and witnesses said, the three masked robbers took turns raping Iria and another young woman caught inside And when everything started to turn south, they'd used Iria as a sheild to reach their getaway car.

A car that crashed five minutes later in a high-speed chase- plowing through three lanes of traffic before colliding into a cement truck.

A car that still had his sister in it.

"Oh, Quatre," Trowa breathed, his voice catching on the sobs. Unbidden, his arm pulled the slightly smaller blond into a hug. _It's not your fault_, he thought. _You didn't do anything- there was nothing you could have done to stop it._

"She was there because of me." Quatre whispered softly. "Because she wanted to take care of me."

"Her choice. She wouldn't have regreted that. It's not your..."

Trowa paused, blinked.

"What?" Quatre asked. "You going to say it's not my fault again? That's a lie. We both know that it is..."

"No," Trowa said, confused. "Quatre... I never said that it wasn't your fault."

"Yes you did," Quatre returned, annoyed, angry. He pulled away, as if just realizing that Trowa held him. "You said it wasn't my fault and I couldn't have stopped it. But we both know that if she hadn't wanted to be my mother then she wouldn't have ever been there in the first place...."

"No. Don't you see, Quatre? I never said that. I thought that. I never said anything at all."

It was Quatre's turn to blink in confusion.

"You mean... that I heard your thoughts?"

TBC...

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Kandice: Oh. Now that's what I call a cliffhanger.

Kassidy: Right. And now a quick plug for our other fic, Thicker Than Blood.

Kandice: Yeah. If you like a slow build up for a 3x4, vampires, were-things, and all that supernatural stuff... then that is the story for you. So, leave a reveiw for this and then go read that, kay?

Kassidy: Hey, sis? They can't see the puppy dog eyes. I'm pretty sure it dosen't work over a computer.

Kandice: Drats. It was worth a shot.


	7. Rareties

**Frayed Edges**

Kandice: Back again.

Kassidy: Here's the newest chapter of Frayed Edges. Oh... and we don't own Gundam Wing.

Kandice: Right-O. We don't own nothing but...

Kassidy: Dust Bunnies! We know, we know!

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_**Rareties **_

After three days of intensive experimentation and countless trys, Trowa and Quatre could still not emulate or repeat the occurrence of telepathy. They were beginning to doubt that it had ever actually happened. Maybe they had just been so close, that their thoughts were similar. Things were not looking good.

"One more try," Trowa nearly pleaded as Quatre stood up to leave. It was late in the evening and they were both exhausted from the last four hours- spent focusing and trying to read minds. Nothing had worked.

Quatre sighed as he allowed Trowa to pull him back down onto the couch in his pent-houses living room. He was beginning to see things that he hadn't ever thought of before, with anyone else. How, with the gloves or without, Trowa seemed to enjoy touching him. Grabbing his wrist, a hand on his shoulder. Small things he would have taken for granted with other people. But with Trowa, it just proved to him how exactly emotionally starved his new friend was. Just how much he'd missed physical contact.

"Fine. One last time."

"Try something strong, like last time. A strong memory, like right before it happened last time."

"Alright." Quatre closed his eyes, focused on a particularly strong memory of him and his ex-girlfriend, Sei, on their graduation day. Then, he dropped his shields completely.

Trowa's sense reached forward automatically, and he locked onto the prominent thoughts and memories.

Again, he was back in that library, with a book spread before him- a memory of Quatre and a blond girl laughing and smiling as they stood side by side in matching green caps and gowns. It was obviously their high school graduation- and they were obviously happy. He pressed closer; the image was clear, but that was all, just those few moments. Trowa wanted to know more about it.

"Ow. Don't push so hard," Quatre murmured to him. "It hurts."

"But how do I look, then? How can I see more without you giving it and without hurting you?"

"I don't know," the empath admitted. "Just, wait a few moments, please. Let me think."

Quatre wasn't sure what he was supposed to be thinking. He'd never done any of this before. Suddenly, he felt an emotion from Trowa. He wasn't quite sure what that emotion was, only that he'd felt it when he normally didn't feel anything. He did something he normally didn't do and snatch out at the emotion, trying to hold it, to understand it.

And something happened that hadn't ever happened before. Quatre felt drawn to Trowa, following the emotion back into the foggy aura surrounding his new friend. The emotion he was following tugged at him, drew him in. And he let it. He gave up, not knowing what was going to happen, and just let it happen.

What the hell?

Trowa immediately knew something had happened. Normally, just memories or thoughts came at him. Not entire minds.

Tell me you felt that... Quatre's voice seemed to echo in his head.

You heard me?

Quatre's blue-green eyes snapped open to meet with emerald green. He was still in Trowa's mind, and...

I can hear you, he said.

Wha... what the hell is going on?

Quatre smiled at his friend, keeping a tight grip, his hand in Trowa's.

Looks like we found out how to do this.

He could feel every emotion from Trowa as clearly as if they were his own, maybe even more clear. Trowa was surprised at what was happening, excited, too. There was a nervousness in him, a bit of... jealousy? And there was something else. Something he was trying to repress, trying to hide. And Quatre couldn't tell what.

Except that if felt remarkably like... attraction. Lust. Quatre blinked. Surely.... No. It couldn't be. But yes. That's what it felt like- attraction... for him. Quatre knew what attraction felt like. He knew from experience. What he didn't know...

Was how he felt about Trowa being attracted to him.

________

Quatre looked at the picture that lay on Duo's desk. He could see the attrocities, and he could pick out some details. Blond hair, stick straight and with an eerily green glow to it.

"Her hair was dyed?"

Duo blinked. "Um... yeah. Forensics discovered that. Original hair color is brownish-red. She was wearing blue contacts, as well. Original eye color was brown.

"Hair dye and contacts? What was she trying to hide from. or who?"

Duo's eyes rolled. "In case you haven't noticed, it's 2009. Just about all teenage girls dye their hair and wear contacts. And have since the 80's."

"You have a dead girl, Detective Maxwell. You can't afford not to be paranoid. Seems to me she might have been hiding from someone. If we know who... then chances are we know her killer."

"Sheesh. Are you a psychic or a psychiatrist?"

"Neither. I am a criminal psychologist. Percentages say that- more than likely- if someone runs, and they end up dead, then the person chasing them is the killer."

"God. I'm surrounded by smart people."

Quatre could only blink.

"That's something we've already considered," Heero pointed out. "But it's a theory that does us no good if we can't ID her. How can we find a killer before we know who he murdered?"

"We know who he murdered," Quatre disagreed. "We just don't know her name. And I think I can help. Well, I think I know someone who can."

"Another empath?"

"No. His specialty is psychometry."

"Psy-whatsis?"

"Psychometry. He receives visions by touching things."

"Oh. I think I've heard of that," Duo said with comprehension. "Like, he can touch a hairbrush and tell you something about the person who owned it?"

Quatre nodded. "Something like that. But I must warn you. He is not used to using his ability in this fashion. And I don't know if he will agree to help you or not. Even if he does, there is no guarantee that it will work. Psychic abilities are fickle things."

"Any chance is better than no chance," Heero reasoned. "Will you please ask your friend if he will help us?"

Quatre nodded. "If he does not, then I will see if my friend back home will fly out. She's helped with cases at the Smithsonian and the Jeffersonian before. She's a classic clairvoyant and can see the future, er, sort of."

"You psychic people all band together, don't you?"

"Not really," Quatre said. "Lu was the one who helped me refine control over my own gift. And I'm sort of doing the same thing for Trowa. It's kind of complicated. Would you like me to bring him to the station tomorrow."

Heero nodded. "Please. Any and all help is appreciated."

Quatre smiled. "Of course. It may take some convincing, but I'm sure once he hears about our Jane Doe, then he'll be happy to help."

tbc...

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Kandice: There it is. This chapter is finished!

Kassidy: It is. Now, lets go work on Thicker Than Blood now.

Kandice: That was a shameless plug, guys. Maybe you can take the hint, and run read that story, please. Pretty please with sugar on top!

Kassidy: And please leave a review. They're like Hershey's kisses to us.

Kandice: FEED US!


	8. By Any Other Name

Kandice: Sorry for the long than usual delay. As of a while back, it's now officially just me writing. Kassidy has left for college. I've been kind of blue lately, but I'm getting over it slowly. I think I'm going to focus most of my time on this story and not 'Thicker Than Blood'. It's just not as popular, and it's not as easy to write for me. So... let me know how you like it. Please. I really need to hear feedback.

**_By Any Other Name_**

"Quatre... I don't think I can do this."

Trowa had reluctantly agreed to 'do a reading' for the detectives, but he was skeptical about it and maybe even a bit frightened. He didn't usually put himself in a position for the influx of information that always followed touch. In fact, he usually avoided it at all costs.

"Trowa, I'll be right here the whole time. Right beside you. There's nothing to worry about. Just think about it like you're reading me. A library, remember? You can do this."

Trowa looked at Quatre, and once again Quatre had that strange feeling that maybe Trowa liked him in a different way than 'just friends', but he pushed that aside. He would dwell on that later. Not now. Right now, Trowa needed his support.

A uniformed officer stopped them at the door when they tried to pass.

"Just who do you think you are?" He demanded.

"Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton. We're here to see Detective's Chang and Yuy."

The officer's eyes narrowed in scorn and mockery. "Let me guess... they've hired some psychic to solve that stupid case for them, didn't they? Crazy guys are hung up on that girl."

Quatre stepped in front of Trowa. "For your information... Officer Trant," he read the name badge, "I am a criminal psychologist and profiler from New York. My help has been used to solve numerous cases for both the NYPD, the FBI, the Smithsonian Museum and the Jeffersonian." He pulled out his work ID. "And I have not been 'hired', and am here because a good friend asked me too. Now... if there's nothing else you have to do besides pester us, please stand aside."

Trowa could almost laugh at the expression on Officer Trant's face as Quatre neatly side stepped the man and pulled Trowa along behind him. He made a mental note to never piss Quatre off.

Duo blinked up at them when they entered the small office the detectives used.

"This is your 'friend'? The one who's supposed to help us? Ain't he the bartender from the place on Fifth and Main?"

"Yes. Duo Maxwell, this is Trowa Barton. Trowa, these are Detectives Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy." Trowa nodded in greeting, but still 'hid' behind the smaller empath.

"Um," Duo waved at a desk covered in items in plastic bags. "We've got alot of her personal items. Eh, her shoes, a mirror we found on her, parts of her clothes. Just... have a go at it I guess."

"Thank you for your time," Heero nodded. "Your help is appreciated."

"I don't know it I can help," Trowa said as slowly he went to the desk.

"Just believe," Quatre said, coming up behind him. "Believe you can, and you will."

"Quat... I don't know if I can do this."

"Trowa... " Quatre met his eyes, and closed his fingers around Trowa's arm. Focusing on that memory of him and Sei, he Let himself get caught up in the whirlwind that was Trowa's personality. Now that he knew how, it was as easy as second nature to him. It was like destiny intended for them to meld into one. Not as if they were cut from the same piece of fabric, but as one piece torn in two, joined again.

Believe. Focus on me. You can do this. I believe in you.

Silently watching this unheard exchange, Duo took the mirror out of the bag, set it on top. And ever so slowly, Trowa reached out to touch it.

The info came soaring at him with lightning speed, like he'd known it would. Trowa started to jerk away, but Quatre held him firmly.

Don't fight it. Accept it. Focus on me.

Trowa ignored the influx of information, and instead focused on the pretense that was Quatre. The soothing feeling, the orderly emotions and memories. If anyone else had been touching him, he'd have gone crazy from a two-sided attack of memories. But with Quatre, it was different.

Abruptly, the frenzied, falling sensation stopped. Suddenly, it was easier. Somehow, Quatre's presence by him, within him, soothed the rush from the innocent mirror. Quatre's empathy. Quatre was used to trying to calm himself and block out painful emotions, and with Quatre's mind touching his, those blocks must have extended to some extent, calming the torrent.

Just like a library, Trowa thought, and reached out for a 'book'. He wasn't prepared for the memory that assaulted him.

----------

_"Hey, Kylie, I'm going to get out of here."_

_A petite, young girl in her mid teens looked at her blond friend._

_"Don't wait up, babe," the other teen said. The voice was a fake falsetto, and the shirt was tell-tale flat against the chest, without hint of breasts. But the heels and mini-skirt spoke of a different fashion. The first girl, with her hair long, straight and blond, rolled her eyes at the second blond, perched upon the lap of some nameless guy, involved in a serious match of tonsil hockey._

_"What's the matter, darlin'... no one here... tickle your fancy."_

_She slapped the guy who just grabbed her ass. "This is the last time I let Kylie talk me into going to some stupid club," she gripped. "Hell, I can't believe she got me to do it this time."_

_She pushed and shoved her way to the door, ignoring the loud, pulsating music. She actually sighed in relief when she got out and started making her way back to Kylie's apartment._

_She was almost half way there when someone reached out a hand to stop her._

_"Maia... you know better than to walk around in the dark alone."_

_She spun to face her visitor._

_"Nichol... you ass. Get away from me."_

_"Only if you say pretty please," someone else said, coming up behind her._

_"Otto," she said dryly. "I didn't expect this from you. Why'd he send you two anyway? Why not someone else to retrieve me?"_

_"Retrieve you?" Nichol sneered. "I'm afraid not, baby-doll. We were sent for a different purpose. And we have orders to have fun with it, too."_

_Her eyes widened._

_"You... he.... No."_

_"Oh, yes," Nichol said with a lecherous grin. "This will be the last face that Marimaia Kushrenada ever sees."_

--------

Trowa yanked himself forcefully away from the vision. Quatre was brutally snapped back into himself once more. "That hurt," the blond muttered.

"Um... guys... what's going on?" Duo asked. Heero merely sat there, watching.

"She was raped, then murdered. And she knew the two who did it."

"We figured that," Heero murmured.

"Someone else paid them to do it," Trowa continued. "And... her name was Marimaia Kushrenada."

For the moment, they'd done all they could. It was up to the detectives to find out who Marimaia Kushrenada was. So, for now, they were done. Trowa walked with Quatre back to Quatre's apartment. And the main topic of their conversation was, of course, the unique developments in their abilities.

Alone, they were both exceptional. Together... they were extraordinary.

"I've never read of anything like this," Quatre was saying. He seemed excited, glowing a little, smiling alot. "If I'm theorizing this right, my sheilds were working on you. Or somehow. I don't even know how to guess at how this happened. But if we can consistently do that... imagine what we could do, Trowa. I mean... just imagine how many cases we could solve. How many John's and Jane's.. like that girl... we could help. How many murderers we could catch. How much better we could make the world. The amount of the possibilities, Trowa... it's just... just... so vast."

Quatre did a little twirl as they exited the elevator. Trowa couldn't help but smile. Quatre was like a kid on a candy high. So happy, so eager. So beautiful.

"You're babbling," Trowa pointed out. Quatre shrugged, turning to face Trowa as he walked backwards into his apartment.

"So? I have a right to be excited, don't I? We may have just made history." Eyes sparkled brightly. "Trowa, you can't tell me you don't feel a little giddy, can you? After what happened?"

"I heard a girl talking to her murderers," Trowa pointed out. "I think I have a right not to be 'giddy'."

Quatre's smile abruptly vanished.

"Oh, Trowa. I forgot that. I'm so, so sorry. That's just horrible." On impulse, he wrapped his arms around Trowa in a hug. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Trowa replied, returning the hug a bit shyly. He wasn't used to hugging. He wasn't used to touching. There were lots of things he wasn't used to that Quatre seemed to bring about. Like the odd swirling feeling deep in his gut. That desire, the attraction. Not just for a pretty face- although Trowa had to admit that Quatre's was beautiful, from his aqua eyes to his slender body- but his mind and personality. Every bit of him was just something else fascinating to Trowa.

And now he had all of the bubbly personality all cuddled into his arms. Quatre started to pull away, and for that moment, their faces were but an inch apart, breaths mingling. Blue-green eyes met with solid green and Trowa reacted on instinct, leaning forward that last inch until lips met in a soft, tender brush.

Startled, Quatre leaned back.

"Trowa?" He asked, a confused question.

Trowa blinked. Oh, God! What had he done?

"I.... I'm sorry," he stammered. "I.... I.... I've got to go..."

And whereas before, it was Trowa left standing, confused as his friend rushed away, this time Quatre was left there alone and confused, fingers brushing over still-tingling lips as he watched his front door close behind Trowa's fleeing form.

tbc....


	9. Ties That Bind

Kandice: Back again. And since Kassidy's not here, I've decided to hold open auditons for new commentors to help me open and close my stories. Today, we're going to try Quatre. Since I love him so much.

Quatre: Thank you.

Kandice: Alright... so standard opening, kay? I own nothing but dust bunnies... and you are welcome to sue me for those.

Quatre: Why would someone want to sue you for dust bunnies?

Kandice: It's a joke, Quatre. It means that I own nothing, so if they sue me... they get, well, nothing.

Quatre: Okay then. Mind if we get to the story, now? I'm sort of eager to see how well I handle having Trowa kiss me.

Kandice: (she raises her eyebrow) Only in fanfiction can that line not sound weird. So... on with the show...

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**Ties That Bind**

Duo looked up at the veritable mansion. It was disgustingly... large and pretentious. Growing up in an orphanage, Duo hated it when wealthy people felt they had to flaunt their money. And it seemed that the Kushrenada's did just that.

"I already don't like this guy," Duo muttered to Heero. Heero merely nodded and knocked on the door. A moment later the door opened on a small, brown-skinned, dark haired girl, obviously a maid from her clothing.

Duo held up his badge. "Detectives Yuy and Maxwell, Sanq Police Department. We're here to speak with Mr. Treize Kushrenada."

"_Si_," the girl dipped a curtsy. "_Uno momento, senor."_ She then closed the door in their faces.

"Charming girl, neh?" Duo asked his partner.

"Hn," was the only response. It was always the only response.

Another minute and the door opened again, this time on a different lady. She was well into her thirties, if not forties, but her hair was just past shoulder length and a glittery champagne blond-brown color with no hint of gray.

"Hello," she smiled. "I apologize for Lupita. She is new and still learning the ways," she waved a hand and opened the door. "Please, come in. I am Annika. My husband is finishing up a very important phone call. Investors, you see."

"Of course," Duo said charmingly. "My name is Detective Maxwell. This is my partner, Detective Yuy. We just need to have a small chat with your husband."

While his partner did his usual thing of charming their suspect- or suspects wife, in this case- Heero observed his surroundings. Duo's assessment had been correct. These people were horribly wealthy and had no problem showing it. The place was a veritable museum of artifacts, but no family portraits or any of the paraphernalia that littered Relena's parents home. The Darlians were wealthy, but had a sense of pride and decorum about it. Not like this.

He and Duo were shown to a small sitting area, where Annika talked while they waited for her husband. Not long later, a tall man with ginger hair stepped into the room.

"Annika, my dear. Thank you for showing my guests in. I believe you have the guest list for next month's party to finish, don't you?"

She smiled at him. "But of course, darling. I'll have Lupita bring tea, if that will be acceptable?"

Duo and Heero nodded after Kushrenada's smile.

"So, Detectives," the man settled onto a chair opposite them. "What can I help you with?"

"Do you know the whereabouts of your daughter, Marimaia Elizabeth Kushrenada?" Heero asked without pause.

To his credit, the man didn't even blink. "No. She ran away when she was fifteen. I haven't seen or heard from her since. That was several years ago, you see. Is she in trouble?"

"When she ran away, why didn't you report her missing," Duo leaned forward.

"She'd already done it several times before that. My daughter never accepted the life she was born to. She decided to hang around with a... _questionable_ crowd." The man sneered over the word. "I finally accepted the fact that she simply didn't wish to be apart of this family. She never got along with Annika, you understand? Didn't want to accept that I had remarried. Problem child, my parents called her."

"Would you call her a problem child?" Duo questioned.

A shoulder lifted elegantly. "Maia was... eccentric, quite like her mother in many ways, God rest her soul. Nothing I tried worked, so... why chain her here? I let her go. Now, you've never answered my question, detectives," he leaned forward as Lupita dropped off a tray of tea and was shooed away by a flick of Kushrenada's hand.

"Is Maia in trouble?"

Heero and Duo exchanged a glance. Their method of talking wasn't as paranormal as Trowa and Quatre's. They spoke with their eyes, with knowledge gleaned from years of working together.

"Your daughter, Mr. Kushrenada," Duo said calmly, "Is dead."

Heero watched closely as Treize Kushrenada blinked once, then twice.

"Pardon? Did... did you say dead?"

Duo nodded. "We have a positive ID on a fairly old case. We have identified this girl," he slid across a picture- one of the less graphic pictures- to the older man, "as Marimaia Kushrenada."

Kushrenada nodded. "That... that's Maia. That's her mother's mirror," he pointed to the small silver mirror laid beside the various other contents of her purse, spread beside her. "That's my daughter," his voice was thick, choked.

Heero gazed at him, assessing the reaction, storing his conclusions for later.

_______________

"He killed her," Duo growled over an hour later, when they were back in the car. "I'm fairly certain of it."

"I agree," Heero nodded. "Now... how do we go about proving it?"

Duo thought for a moment. "I think we need to see our lovable empath again. What do you think?"

Heero nodded once more. "Affirmative."

_______________

Quatre rolled over, waking up for the umpteenth time that night from a very vivid dream. A very unsettling dream where Trowa did alot more than kiss him. It was barely three in the morning, two days after Trowa'd kissed him and ran away... and ignored all of Quatre's calls.

He wasn't really sure what he felt. Oh, sure. The kiss had been enjoyable... it had been downright amazing, really. But the simple fact of the matter was... Quatre was straight.

He just couldn't help it if Trowa had a naturally graceful way of walking. It wasn't his fault that Trowa's voice was so husky it sent shivers down his spine just thinking of it. Was he to be blamed if the thought of actually kissing Trowa again- or making his dreams a reality- didn't shock or disgust him?

Yes, his mind answered dryly. And did that make him gay... or bi? Even more important than that... did he want to pursue a relationship of a more intimate nature with Trowa? He'd been in a few serious relationships, and had sex on more than one occasion. But he'd only ever actually _*loved*_ one person. Sei Lovecraft... the first person he'd ever bedded... had been sweet and kind and funny and charming and intelligent and beautiful and humble and... Sei had been everything. Sei _*was*_ everything. It didn't matter that she didn't love him like that. It didn't matter that she'd moved on, found someone new. It didn't matter that she was now happily married with twin girls on the way. They were first and foremost friends. And that had made their relationship all the more special, that deep friendship that could outlast anything.

He had believed that he and Trowa had the makings of that kind of friendship. A special bond. Could that bond outlast it if an attempt at a relationship failed?

Quatre rolled once again, trying to fall back asleep, to will away all these thoughts. And then the doorbell rang. Quatre groaned. Who would be at his door at three in the morning? He slid out of bed. Dorothy was long since back home. Could it be Trowa?

He hurried to the door and pulled it open.

There, standing on his doorstep, short cropped black hair mussed, eyes dark and weary, face set in a scowl, but betraying relief and worry, was Lucrezia Noin.

"Noin?"

"Quatre," she snapped. "I want to know what the hell you're doing... and I want to know now! I don't appreciate seeing my friends die in front of my eyes!"

tbc...

________________________________________________________________

Kandice: Mwahaha. Evil, aren't I? But you love it. Poor Quatre. Dealing with an angry Noin is never easy.

Quatre: I don't know if I like you anymore. You're mean to me.

Kandice: Not really. It's just the story. And I fix everything, I promise. I don't do 'Sad Ever After'. I do 'Happy Ever After'.

Quatre: Well then hurry up and start the next chapter... I'm eager to see what happens.

Kandice: Sure. Just as soon as all my loving, adorable fans review for me!


	10. Never Been Kissed

Kandice: Okay. It's Duo this week.

Duo: YEAH!! WOO HOO!!!

Kandice: I do not own Gundam Wing, and this chapter is a little longer than usual... so enjoy!

Duo: WOO HOO!!!

Kandice: Anyone have any aspirin? I think I'll need it.

__________________________________________________________________________________

_**Never Been Kissed**_

All Quatre could do was blink. The next sound out of his mouth, a muttered 'Huh?' was not the most articulate reply ever, but it managed to convey his confusion enough that the tall, dark haired woman calmed down and pushed past him into the room. Quatre, still standing at the door in his boxers, blinked again and closed the door.

"Noin?" He asked, perplexed.

"Hell yes. Now, Quatre Raberba Winner... please," she said, "please explain to me why my visions have been going every single way lately. From happy to you dead, to you happy... and now DEAD again."

"Lu... please slow down and explain a little more. I'm confused."

"So the fuck am I," she growled. "I really don't like watching my best friend end up raped and stabbed in a fucking ally. Or drowned in the river. Or strangled. Or, or..." Suddenly, she changed. All anger just vanished and she collapsed in a heap on the couch.

"Quatre, Oh, God. It's so horrible. Why, why... what are you getting into that can do this? Quatre, please... what's going on?"

Quatre went to the couch, finally gaining his bearings. He wrapped his arms around his older friend.

"Shhh. Lu, it's all right, at least for now," he added, curbing her retort. "It's a pretty long story, and you and I both need sleep. I can tell you about it first thing in the morning, kay?"

"It is first thing in the morning," Noin argued weakly. Quatre just laughed and pulled her up, tugging her towards the bed, thankful that he'd just replaced the sheets after that last *vivid* dream about Trowa.

"Lay down and sleep," he told her. "I'm here and I'm not dead. Just sleep."

Exhausted, she almost immediately fell into a deep sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He stayed a moment to make sure she really was asleep and then went to grab a spare pillow and blanket so as he could do the same on the couch.

He woke to the smell of pancakes.

"Rise and shine, cupcake," Noin called out from across in the kitchen. "Breakfast is almost ready and it's as good an excuse as any for you to start explaining things."

He tidied his make-shift bed, noting that Noin had done the same. But then, she always had been a neat-freak. He went to the bathroom to releive himself and wash the sleep from his face. When he returned, a dish of pancakes set in the center of his small table, along with glasses of orange juice and a cup of tea. The latter he smiled at. Noin certainly knew him. And after all the years they'd known each other, as well she should.

"Alright," Noin said, suddenly serious as they both sat down at the table, "I think you need to explain."

He nodded and proceded to explain all that had happened this last week or so, not sparing any details. From how he'd met Trowa, to their unique discoveries, to the case, to his knowledge of Trowa's attraction for him, to the kiss and even his feelings about that. There was a reason Noin was his best friend, his mentor. She listened to him quietly. The story drug on, through breakfast, through cleaning up, until it ended a while after they'd settled down on the couch.

When at last he stopped, she remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

"Well then, certain things make sense at least," she sighed.

"Pardon?"

"From my guess, somebody is going to want you dead," she said bluntly, "That much is a given. Probably this Kushrenada character, if he really is his daughter's murderer. And it's the same MO, mostly. Seeing you strangled to death in an alleyway after being raped," she shivered, and Quatre was glad that *he* was not clairvoyant. He'd never want to see his own death, or his best friend being raped.

"And, from what I can tell from experience, it seems that this Trowa is key to you staying alive and safe. Remember that last time my dreams changed, after your fight? They went back to normal after you reconciled. And now, back to this. I don't claim to know anything about your relationship, or lack there-of, but Quatre... you *need* him. Without him, you die."

Quatre nodded quietly at her blunt tone. Trust Noin to see what needed said, and to say it.

"Lu... I just don't know. It *scares* me. And nothing scares me. I just don't understand this. I am straight... so why the hell do I feel this way for a *man*?"

Noin looked straight into his eyes for a moment, as if considering what to say. Then, slowly she placed a hand on his knee.

"Quatre... you are not the type to be put off by such a thing as gender. Wether you are or are not gay, bisexual... whatever... I don't think that's your problem."

He blinked up at her. "What are you talking about?" he asked, confused. Her dark eyes softened a bit.

"I mean that I don't think it's the whole physical aspect that's got you worried. I *did* see that bundle of sheets and bed covers in the laundry hamper, and I am a woman grown, so I do know about such things." Quatre blushed suitably, and Noin grinned before continuing.

"I think that your problem is that you're afraid of actually *feeling* something for someone. I know you Quatre. If you felt something for someone, you wouldn't care if they were male or female or something in between. The only thing that would factor for you would be actually falling in love. You're afraid to."

"Lu... stop," he said, squeezing his eyes shut, face- once a bright pink- now pale.

"No. You need to hear this, Quat. What happened with Sei was not her fault. It was yours. You made her out to be some kind of perfect goddess. Something she wasn't, something she couldn't be. She wanted to be that for you, you know? But she couldn't. You wanted something she wasn't. You made her out to be so perfect, and she wasn't. She would have killed herself trying to be... for you. But she left instead. She knew what I know. You need someone level minded, someone you can accept on equal ground. Someone that you don't feel you need to look up to. Now answer me one question, Quatre. Do you think that this Trowa is that kind of someone?"

Quatre kept his eyes closed, but he thought and thought hard. Beyond just the physical side. To how well they got along. How Trowa'd handled it when he spoke about Iria. How Trowa trusted him, how he trusted Trowa. Every little detail of the past week or so.

And slowly, so slowly, he nodded his head, a single tear escaping.

Noin kissed his forehead, as she would a child. And that's how she felt. Her baby was all grown up.

"Now, go, Kitten" she whispered in his ear. "Go to him, and don't hold everything inside. Let him know how you feel, because I think he's just as scared as you are. Maybe even more. If what you say is true... he's never done any of this before. Talking always helps. So go to him. Go to him and *fix* this."

_________________________________________________________________________

Trowa didn't know what to expect when he answered his door at 9 am on Sunday morning. But it most certainly wasn't the person who was there.

Clad in PJ bottoms and a T-shirt (and ever-present gloves), he opened the door to reveal the same blue-eyed blond that had haunted his dreams.

"Quatre..." but he barely had time to say the name before said person barrelled into him, knocking him back into the apartment. He barely had time to gasp in a shocked breath before those warm lips were on his, stealing all breath away, kissing him. There were no memories, not flashes of knowledge... just Quatre. Just Quatre.

His hands came up to steady himself and Quatre, and somehow a pair of arms wound up encircling him, pulling him closer.

A tongue moved against his lips, and they parted on a moan. He had absolutely no clue as to what was going on, no idea as to what was happening- only that he wanted this. One moment he'd been standing there, and now, he was staggering, trying to catch his balance with the object of his wet dreams wrapped around him like a vine. Legs intertwined around his, a heated hardness pressing against his thigh.

And as suddenly as it began, it ended. Quatre leaned back, his breathing as heavy as Trowa's own. His face was flush, his lips bruised.

"I... I'm sorry," Quatre said at last, still wrapped around Trowa. "I really, really didn't mean to do that," he said sheepishly.

Trowa blinked, but had the sense of mind to close the door and carry Quatre over to sit on the couch.

"I think we both have a lot of explaining to do," he said softly.

And knowing he was in for a very long day, Quatre nodded.

___________________________________________

"What do you mean he's not there?"

Relena blinked at Heero as he growled into the phone.

"Yes, I understand," he said impatiently, "but this is a matter of some urgency. Is there a number I can reach him at... a cell, pager or something?"

Relena rubbed his shoulders, trying to ease the tension out of them.

"No, I know that. Yes, of course. Please have him call Detective Yuy or Detective Maxwell immediately. Yes, thank you. Good-bye."

He snapped the phone closed with enough force to have Relena jump.

"Heero," she soothed, "Just breath. It's not the end of the world. He has his own life to attend to. He will help you solve this case... but he can't put his life on hold for it. And neither can you."

Strong arms came around to encircle her and she melted into the embrace, still running her hands over his back and shoulders. "Please, just think about it?" she asked. "We've been together for six years, Heero. I think... I think it's time," She continued softly.

"'Lena," Heero sighed. "I thought we decided *after* the promotion comes through. After we solve this case."

"The promotion's not definite," she argued. "Captain Chang said *maybe*."

"You know well that Chang will give me and Duo the promotion if we can solve this case."

"Fine, then you will. But what's stopping us from getting *engaged* now. We can wait 'til the promotion to get married, but Heero, please. You know I love you. I'd wait forever for you... just please, please don't make me." She buried her face in his chest. She hated pressing him, and she rarely ever did it. But her mother was ill and it was her dream to see her daughter on her wedding day.

Relena had known since she was fifteen that one day, she would marry Heero Yuy. It had taken her a year to get him to tolerate her presence. Another to get him to see her as a friend. And still even longer before she'd finally broken through that barrier and became his girlfriend. And she'd been his girlfriend for over six years now. Her parents... after a suitable 'reserved judgement' period... had accepted him into the family with open arms. Relena had always considered herself to have limitless patience. And she'd spoken true... she would wait forever and a day for Heero. She would, she could... but she wished that he wouldn't ask it of her. She didn't think it was being selfish... Heero knew she loved him. She knew he loved her.

She'd been there for him throughout all of his toughest cases, she'd been there when his mother- the only family he had- had passed away. She'd been there when that one case had went bad and he'd ended up in the hospital for a week. Throught the physical pain and the emotional pain, she'd always been there for him. And he for her. She didn't think it was too much to ask that he want to say 'I do' to her and give her his last name.

The first time she'd brought this up... over a year ago... he'd simply asked for time. She'd given him time. And now... now, she just wanted him to be able to move past whatever barrier she'd yet to break down. Now... she just wanted those four words, that one question.

All she wanted to do was to love Heero Yuy for the rest of her life.

tbc...

__________________________________________________________________________________

Kandice: Well, there you go. Longer than usual, and I branched out to include a little bit of Heero and Relena. Hope you enjoyed.

Duo: Yeah! And please review! She loves reviews!

Kandice: Cool. And I didn't even have to bribe him to say that!


	11. The Family Factors, pt 1

_**The Family Factors, Part 1**_

Quatre and Trowa had spent the better part of the day talking. Trowa found out about Sei, and Quatre's fears. Trowa in turn had confided that Quatre had been the first person he'd ever even kissed, and as such he had *no* experience at all. They'd shared a few more kisses, Quatre teaching Trowa the basics, but they'd kept them mostly chaste. Around three o'clock, Quatre called Noin to tell her that he'd forgotten his cellphone and that he was likely to be with Trowa for the rest of the day.

It was then that he learned of Heero's desperate need to contact him.

He looked up at Trowa.

"Do you feel up to it?"

Trowa's only response was a nod. With Quatre... he felt up for anything.

Another hour later found them at the Sanq PD... again. And their entrance was blocked... again. This time by a severe looking Chinese man.

"ID, please," he said.

Quatre pulled out his work ID.

"Quatre Winner." he said, holding out his picture ID from the FBI (this usually got him through quicker than the IDs from the Jeffersonian, Smithsonian, or any other places he worked). And it did this time, as well. Well... sort of.

"FBI? Why's the FBI here?" The man's dark eyes narrowed. Quatre extended his ability to feel him. Sensing nothing particularly bad, he admitted the truth- partially, at least.

"I work as a criminal profiler for several government and private agencies, Including the FBI, NYPD, the Jeffersonian Institute... among others. I also freelance when I believe there to be a need for my services. I've been assisting Detectives Yuy and Maxwell on a certain cold case."

"Ah..." was the reply. "And he is..." the man motioned to Trowa.

"An associate of mine," Quatre replied coolly. "Now, we are running behind, unfortunately, so we better be going."

"Not so fast..." The man placed a hand on Quatre's arm.

"Unhand me, officer," Quatre said.

"Else what?" was the reply.

Quatre darted his eyes around, and his empathy landed on a certain blond, pigtailed officer sitting behind a desk, and the ring on this man's finger.

Quatre raised his blue eyes up to meet black. "Else your wife may find out about your affair, officer," he replied smoothly.

Black eyes went wide, the hand dropped off.

"Who... how..."

"Excuse us, officer. We need to get going."

He drug Trowa behind him.

Duo was leaning against the outside of his office door, watching it all.

"What'd you do to get Cap'n Chang all flustered like that?"

"I just mentioned the affair he's having with one of his officers."

"Huh?" Duo's mouth dropped open, landing somewhere in the vicinity of the floor. "What the hell?"

Quatre shrugged. "The woman over behind that desk... with the blond braids?"

"Sally Po. She's pretty new. Been here around a year now."

"Your Captain Chang is having an affair on his wife with that woman. Or at least is high on the way to doing so."

"Huh," Duo said. "I never would have guessed Chang'd have the balls to go for a gal like Sally. Well... at least he's getting some."

"Pardon?"

"Chang's wife is in the process of divorcing him," Heero supplied. "Meilan hates his guts, and it was only on their parents wishes they got married. Their parents are dead... so Meilan's divorcing him. Trying to take a good deal of his money along with it."

"Ah,,," Quatre said. He hated it when he was wrong. "I'll have to apologize to him sometime or other," he murmured.

"Or not," Duo said. "Sally wouldn't be the first person Chang's slept with. And that's including while he was supposedly still 'with' Meilan."

"Can we please get to the matter at hand?" Heero asked. "I'd like to be able to find enough evidence to get us a search warrant... or an arrest warrant. The sooner, the better."

"Of course," Quatre said, blinking out of his daze of gossip. "Trowa... are you ready?"

"No," was the reply. "But I don't think I'll ever be, so let's go ahead."

With Quatre's hand on his shoulder, things went a little more smoothly this time. From what he was able to see, he managed to tell the detectives that Marimaia was living with a transsexual friend of hers, was able to provide the name of that friend, and a relative location of where the apartment was. But that was the only relevant information he could provide.

"More than nothing," Duo said reasonably. "C'mon, Yuy. Let's get to searching. Maybe we can go pay a visit to this friend tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mr. Barton," Heero nodded to Trowa.

"Call me Trowa... and you are welcome. It's..." he paused, "Nice to be able to help."

__________________________________

Once again, Quatre found himself sitting at the bar with Trowa waiting on him. Only this time, he stayed away from the clam chowder. He talked with Trowa animatedly, using his hands and his face, his whole body. Trowa in turn listened. Their hands brushed occasionally, and Trowa smiled whenever it did. Quatre leaned up to whisper something funny into Trowa's ear, his fingers stroking across the skin of Trowa's cheek as he turned his head to whisper.

Unbeknown to them, dark blue eyes were watching their exchanges with curiosity.

The first time she'd glimpsed her brother and the blond actually talking, she'd dismissed it. Maybe Trowa was learning to be a little social. And the first time she'd caught their hands brushing, she'd dismissed it as a trick of light, because Trowa *never* touched anyone. Even she herself hardly ever received a hug or such physical affection. But then, she saw it again. And then, the blond actually leaned up and touched Trowa's face as he whispered something obviously funny into Trowa's ear.

That was it for Catherine. Something was obviously wrong, because what was happening did not match with how she perceived the world. Trowa had been mysteriously 'out' alot lately. And now this blond.

The moment her night-time help arrived, Cathy stormed out.

"Trowa... Back! Now! And bring Blondie with you!"

Trowa looked from Quatre to his sister and back again.

Quatre looked at him curiously, and he shrugged in return.

"Let's go see what she wants," Quatre said.

A few minutes later found Trowa, Quatre and Cathy all standing in the deserted storage room of the bar.

"Explain what the hell is going on," she demanded. "First you're out all the time this past week and never at home. Then you're in there talking and smiling and chatting. And now I see *this*? Trowa, he was touching you! You never touch anyone or let anyone touch you. What's going on?"

Quatre reached out to touch Trowa's arm.

What do we tell her? he asked mentally.

She doesn't know about my power, was Trowa's reply.

That answered alot, for Quatre. It meant that complete truth was ruled out.

"See?" she demanded, pointing to where Quatre's hand was touching Trowa. "That's what I mean!"

Trowa closed his eyes, praying to just melt away. He really didn't know how to deal with this.

Quatre, seeing his friend's expression, extended his empathy so that he could feel Cathy's emotions, and, since he still remained linked to him, Trowa's to an extent as well.

Feeling mostly just sisterly love and concern- and a good dose of human curiosity as well- from the red-head, he smiled.

"Catherine. My name is Quatre. You meet me a few weeks ago, here at this bar."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You kept asking questions about Trowa!"

He nodded. "I must admit I did. I was curious about your brother." He shifted his touch from Trowa's arm to his hand. The action didn't go unnoticed by the woman. She looked from their intertwined fingers to Trowa's face. Every little nuance in all those smiles and little touches washed over her all at once.

"Trowa?" she asked, her voice small and confused.

He nodded, knowing what she was asking.

"How long have you.... known?" she asked.

"A very, very long time," he replied. Her gaze transfered to Quatre.

"And you?"

Quatre shrugged. "About a few days," he said truthfully.

"A few days?" she exclaimed, then her eyes went dark. "If you're just toying with my brother, boy I will tear you limb from limb."

Quatre just smiled warmly.

"I'm not toying with him, Miss Catherine. I can't say I know exactly what is happening between us, but I do know that it is not a game."

Cathy nodded. "I still want to know more... but I'll accept that for now."

Quatre leaned up and kissed Trowa's cheek. "That's all I ask," he said. Then Trowa turned and Quatre's lips met his.

Cathy rolled her eyes, struck by the thought that for once, her brother was acting normal. She sighed. But it had to be like this?

"Oh, brother!"


	12. The Family Factors, pt 2

The Family Factors, Part II

____

Duo woke up with a start as the bed heaved. A glance at the clock told him that it was three in the morning. Another glance told him that his wife was scrambling for the bathroom, a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Hil?"

He got out of the bed, followed her to the bathroom, where he found her retching over the toilet.

"Hil? Baby, you okay? What's wrong?"

She didn't have enough hair for him to hold back, so he settled for pushing her bangs off of her forehead, so as to check her temperature.

"No fever. Hilde? How do you feel?"

"Like I have to puke," she answered sarcastically- before heaving again and doing just that.

"Then that's it. I'm taking you to the hospital. This is the third time you've woken up like this in the past week. Somethings wrong."

"You've got to be at work. Heero needs you."

"You need me more," he said firmly, softly, kissing her sweaty forehead.

"No," she insisted. "Just call Relena."

"I can get Quatre to go with Heero. I'm taking you to the hospital."

Hilde lifted her ashen face. "No," she said, dark eyes swirling. "You're not missing work for me. I'm fine. Just call Relena. See? I'm feeling better already. Trust me, Duo," she cupped his face. "Go, do what you do. I'll be waiting when you get home. Please?"

Duo looked her in the eyes. He trusted her. And when she looked at him like that, and spoke in that tone, he had no choice but to give in.

"Fine. I'll go call Relena."

"She's over at Heero's," Hilde called after him.

"At three in the morning? Isn't that a little early to be paying visits? And wasn't she over there yesterday afternoon?"

Hilde just grinned, face pale and forehead sweaty. "Who said she ever left?"

_________________________

"Maia was sweet," the woman said. "She was an absolute doll. She was my friend since before I ever had my sex change. Back when she was still little, and I was just a kid. I still can't believe she's dead," Kylie Harrison wiped away a tear, but it was the only one on those make-up clad cheeks. "I always thought she just went back home. She wasn't really happy here, either. I am older than her... and she didn't really like my lifestyle that much. You must remember that I was still young and hormonal- and that was still a few years before the sex change. I was into clubs and stuff. Maia didn't appreciate the guys grabbing her ass and stuff. Like I said... she was sweet. She was an innocent, really."

Heero nodded. "Then why was she here?"

"I was her friend," was the matter-of-fact reply. "Where else would she run to?"

"And why was she running?" Duo asked.

A shrug. "Family problems. After her mama died, and her papa married that she-demon cougar of a gold-digger- Maia didn't have much of a family life. She had it sorta like Cinderella, y'know? Mr. K used to be a real nice man. Nice values and such. But that bitch- pardon my French, officers- corrupted him. He fell in right nicely with her and her daughter and forgot all about Maia."

"Daughter?" Duo asked. Kushrenada hadn't said anything about another daughter.

"Yeah. That bitch had a daughter from a previous marriage. Several years older than Maia. Everything Maia wasn't... Midii was. Maia was a typical rebellious teen, but still sweet and all. Y'know, just normal stuff. But Mr. K couldn't handle that. Midii," the woman let the venom drip from the name, "was the exact opposite. Prim and polished and polite. Midii's just like her mother. A scheming, gold digging bitch," she nodded.

"Ah. Thank you," Duo said, handing over a card. "I think that will be enough for the moment. Call us if you remember anything relevant, okay?"

"Sure thing, darling. Anything for a cutie such as you."

"Sorry, married," Duo said with a smile, flashing his wedding band.

The woman smiled anyway. "Too bad. Real loss on that one." She eyed Heero up and down. "Hey... what about the blue-eyed...."

"Taken," Heero said. "Good day, ma'am."

Both men hurried away, Duo trying not to laugh.

"I think we should pay Mr. Kushrenada another visit," Heero told his partner. Duo nodded, trying to stop his laughter.

"Right-o," Duo chiruped. "But you're driving, cause I'm calling to check on Hilde."

"Tell Lena 'hi' for me," Heero said, getting into the drivers seat.

"Yeah," was Duo's only reply. His cell phone was already out, number dialing.

The conversation with Hilde was short. They were at the doctors, in the waiting room. After securing a promise for her to call him afterwards, Duo hung up.

Not long after, they found themselves back in the prim parlor of the mansion.

"Why didn't you mention that Marimaia had issues with your step-daughter, Mr. Kushrenada?"

"Please, call me Treize. And it's simple. I didn't *know* she had any issues with Midii. Now, certainly there was your usual animosity between them. Maia was simply unable to accept that Midii was part of our family, that she was no longer an only child. As I've said, Maia was unreasonable and rebellious. What does Midii have to do with this anyway? I will not have my daughter drug into this."

Heero leaned forward.

"Your *daughter* has already been drug into this. She was murdered. Your step-daughter, however, may be vital in solving this case. Don't you wish to know who murdered your daughter?"

"Of course," was the startled reply. "I *loved* Maia. I would never hurt her. I am co-operating with you, detectives. But I'm beginning to think that you consider me a suspect, here. I'm insulted."

"At this point," Duo mentioned, "Everyone is a suspect. We're just trying to get a clearer picture of Maia's life. Including talking to old friends... and family."

"So long, and you're just now taking interest in her?"

"No, sir. We tried years ago, but we had no information to go on. The reason we discovered her identity was thanks to an anonymous tip. When that info checked out... we reopened the case," Duo snapped his mouth shut. He really didn't want to say too much about their sources- considering who his sources were.

Five minutes later, they were out the door again.

"I really, really think he did it," Duo said. "Or at least had someone do it for him."

"Agreed," Heero nodded.

_____________________

Unforgiving eyes stared after the two officers as they left from the Kushrenada household again. Phone held to ear, the owner of said eyes waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Nichol... get Otto. I have a job for you."

"A job, you say?" was the pensive reply. "What kind of job, boss?" There was a decidedly wicked lilt to that voice.

"There are cops asking questions about the Marimaia... incident."

"Cops? Now, boss... that'll be tricky to..."

"No. Not the cops. They're getting their info from someone else. I want you to find out who... and I want you to get rid of him."

___________________________

"Hey!" Quatre yelled playfully at Trowa. "Those are my balls. Hands off, pal!"

"But yours are heavier than mine," was the pitiful response.

"Touch them and I'll make you do the splits again," Quatre replied.

Trowa blushed scarlet and raised his hands in the air.

"Let's see if you can get another strike then, Mr. Stingy-pants."

Quatre burst out laughing.

"Mr. Stingy-pants? Come on, Trowa. You can do better than that," the blond replied, grabbing one of the balls in question and, after a running start, letting it go. The ball practically flew down the lane, and two out of ten pins were left standing.

Trowa stuck his tongue out, Quatre laughed, grabbing the second ball. "I'll pick up the spare," Quatre said. But Trowa, laughing, let out a shrill whistle just as Quatre was about to let go of the ball. Said ball bounced twice before rolling right into the gutter.

"Meanie!" Quatre shreiked, turning to chase the taller man across the slick floor of the bowling alley.

Catherine was leaning over her knees, shaking and trying to stop laughing. The man beside her was trying to stifle his own laughter.

"Do they have any idea how badly that all could have been taken out of context?" The man asked.

Catherine stilled her laughter just long enough to look up with tear filled eyes.

"I don't think I've ever seen my brother have so much fun. I mean, look at that. Laughing, smiling, *touching*. This is so fun. Did you see him when Quatre came up and licked his ear? He did the splits. I mean, I knew he was flexible... but *damn*. He's like a teenager. A regular kid, y'know."

"So you're not upset about him being gay and all? It dosen't surprise you?"

"Sure it surprised me. It surprised me that he'd be seeing *anyone*. I'm not upset. I'm just so glad that he's finally found someone. I don't care if it's a guy."

The man nodded after them. "They do seem happy together," he admitted. He'd had a little trouble accepting the whole gay part, but if Cathy was okay with it... then he would be too.

"Thanks, Alex," she said softly. "It means alot for me and Trowa that you're okay with it."

Alex smiled at her while the 'Sanq Bowling Center' sign blinked above them. "Anything for you, Cathy. Anything for you."

tbc....

___________________________________

AN: Had you going there for a moment, didn't I?


	13. Enough For Now

Kandice: Sorry for the delay. I wound up starting college. It was a last minute kind of thing and it's been pretty rushed the past few weeks. Between all of that and other drama in my life, it's been pretty hard to concentrate on writing. But here is a new chapter for all my fans... complete with it's own little _**lime**_, just for being patient with me. Thanks!

**Enough For Now**

Hilde paced back and forth across the living room rug, scenarios running through her mind. Occasionally her hand unconsciously brushed across her stomach. She was still shocked herself at the doctor's diagnosis. She'd never thought that those anti-biotics she'd taken after breaking her wrist at work would lead to this. No-one had warned her, no-one had said anything.

Besides the vomiting, she'd had no other symptoms, and she'd been dismissing the hot-flashes and occasional nausea for weeks now. She hadn't put on any weight that anyone could notice, but now that her attention was captured, she imagined that she was a bit more round at her waist than she once was. How the hell could this have happened to her?

And why now, of all times?

She looked up as she heard the door open, and she watched as her husband entered the house. He was smiling, which meant a good day at work, progress on a case- the case. She was happy for him. He enjoyed what he did, he liked doing it just as she liked tinkering around under the hoods of cars.

"Hilde... how are you feeling? You said you weren't sick, but something had to be wrong." He set his briefcase down, taking off his jacket and shoulder holster before coming to wrap his arms around her.

"Duo... I... I'm sorry," she said, tears on the brink of falling. That wasn't how she'd planned on starting this. But that's what came from her lips as she hugged him back.

Duo was frowning now. Something had to be wrong.

He pulled back, cradling her face in his hands until he could stare into her dark eyes.

"Hilde... what's the matter? You can tell me... please."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she cried. "I didn't mean for it to happen. But... the anti-bitotics and the birth-control... doctor said it didn't... didn't work right.... and, and..."

Duo blinked. "Hilde..." he said firmly, then kissed her soundly. "Babe... slowly. Think, breath, then speak. You're not making any sense."

Hilde stopped, took a deep breath as she thought out her words. It seemed to work, for it calmed her. When she finally spoke again, she wasn't crying, though her words were soft, quiet.

"The anti-biotics from when I broke my wrist?" She waited for his nod before continuing. "Apparently the anti-biotics make the birth-control pill not as effective. Duo, oh, I'm sorry. Duo... I'm pregnant."

She brought her eyes up to his, looking into confused violet depths. For moments he just stood there, her face cupped in his hands.

"Duo, oh, please say something- anything. Duo, please. I didn't..."

"You're pregnant," he interrupted, face and voice unreadable.

She nodded miserably.

"And the throwing up, all that getting sick and everything... is... because you're pregnant?"

She nodded again, and was surprised when Duo smiled and kissed her senseless.

"Hilde, what's wrong with that? Why are you so sad? I thought you wanted kids someday?"

"I did... but we decided to wait. Until.... later," she waved a hand, suddenly the confused one. "You've got your case... and the promotion, maybe. The auto-shop is just expanding. It's... not a good time."

Duo laughed, kissing her again.

"Hil, Babe... I was so worried you were sick or something. But... we're going to have a baby. Maybe a little earlier than we wanted... but we're going to have a baby. Hil... this is great. This is wonderful. I'm going to be a Daddy! What did the doctor say? When's the due date? How far along are you? Do you know the sex yet? Oh, God! What are we going to name her?"

It was Hilde's turn to laugh at Duo's excited tone.

"Yes, you'll be a daddy. The doctor's say the baby's in perfect health. The due date's August 12th, and I'm actually four months along. I have an appointment in two weeks to determine the sex of the baby."

"Four months?" Duo asked, awed. He remembered it had been close to five months since Hilde broke her wrist... but beside the occasional puke session, he hadn't noticed anything. She'd not even gained any weight, beside maybe a little bump at her waist he'd simply accredited to way too much eating out lately. But... pregnant? In five months... he'd be a daddy. Simply... wow.

"Wow," he whispered. "Oh, I've got to tell Heero. And Quatre. Oh, Captain Chang should know. And the guys at the precinct. Oh... wow!"

Hilde smiled and sighed, hugging her husband to her.

Disaster averted, she thought, happy to have her fears proved wrong.

________________

Trowa'd never really kissed anyone before. Well, he'd never kissed anyone before period. Until Quatre. And he discovered that he really, really liked kissing Quatre. Ignoring the odd looks they got from some people, Trowa took every chance he could, public or not, to kiss Quatre. He liked to think that he'd gotten pretty good at it in the last few days. Currently, they were parked in Quatre's silver Mercedes, out in the now dim parking lot of the closed bowling alley. Catherine had left quite a while ago with Alex, and the empath and clairvoyant had had the same idea... only, they'd got sidetracked.

Because Trowa really liked kissing Quatre.

The passenger seat had been completely reclined, and Trowa now had a bubbly blond sitting on his lap, kissing the daylights out of him. His own hands were buried deep in the blond hair, and Quatre's were on his shoulders, holding him down. Now, they hadn't ventured any further than just kissing. Trowa was still too new to this, and Quatre too kind-hearted to press him further. Until now.

Quatre's fingers drifted over his shoulders, down across his chest. Trowa moaned when Quatre's fingers brushed across his nipples through the cotton of his sweater, but he didn't pull away.

"Is this okay?" Quatre asked against his lips, his hands drifting under Trowa's sweater. The new experience of the touch of skin against skin was electrifying for Trowa. All he could do was moan his assent. Quatre moved his lips from Trowa's mouth to his neck, suckling hard enough to leave a mark against the tan flesh. "Not too far," Quatre murmured. "Not that far- not here, not yet. But Trowa... I want to feel you come."

"Hmm?" Trowa knew Quatre was speaking, was asking him for something. But his pleasure hazed mind was having trouble understanding.

"Trowa, do you know what I'm asking?" To further explain, Quatre dropped a hand. One still toyed beneath the shirt with that fascinating pebble, but the other came down to slip under the waist band of Trowa's pants, testing the waters, toying with the hem of Trowa's underwear.

"Quatre?" Trowa panted. Realization slowly found it's way through the mist of ecstasy. Was Quatre asking...

"I won't do anything you don't want," Quatre whispered. "I promise." He began to withdraw his hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"No," Trowa interrupted. "I just.... I've never.... Quatre- show me."

"Okay," Quatre replied, letting his hand sink back down under the tented fabric of Trowa's pants. He flicked the button open, drew the zipper back until he could withdraw Trowa's heated length from within it's confines. He looked down through slitted eyes at the treasure he now held in his hand. He delicately brushed his thumb across the head, and brought his eyes up to Trowa's face to see the effect upon his boyfriend/lover. Trowa's eyes drifted closed, his mouth falling open as he panted and mewled, thrusting his hips up into Quatre's touch. Quatre flicked his finger once more over the tip, teasing the slit, before wrapping his hand around Trowa cock and beginning to stroke. Trowa wasn't used to the sensations of ecstasy he was feeling, and the empathic/telepathic bond between them seemed to intensify the emotions somehow, to make every sensation clearer, sharper.

He moaned, cried as he thrust up, helpless to do anything but grind his hips into Quatre's stroking hand. He didn't even notice Quatre's own eyes glazing over as the blond ground his still encased erection against Trowa's thigh, gaining the friction to fuel his own growing climax. He felt Trowa tense as he gasped his pleasure, then felt the rush as Trowa spilt his seed across his hand, his pants, his shirt. He continued to pump, pulling every last drop from his long, lean lover until he felt his own climax steal over him. He gasped his own pleasure as he felt his cock tense, then flood his pants with proof of his passion.

Gasping, he collapsed against Trowa, heedless of the sticky mess.

"Oh.... wow," Trowa whispered.

"Yeah," Quatre agreed, lazily lapping at the red mark he'd left on Trowa's neck. Euphoria still hazed their minds, and it was that reason that Quatre hadn't felt it before, that little pin-prick against his empathy.

"Wha...?" He blinked, leaning up and looking around. That was unusual. With his sheilds up, he usually didn't feel things unless it was very strong... and/or focused on him. Since he could rule out Trowa... who was there...

Trowa was leaning up, worried at the look on his lover's face.

"Quatre?"

"Get down!" He pushed Trowa back down into the seat, covering Trowa with his body even as the report of a gun firing echoed around the empty parking lot. Trowa closed his eyes, pulling Quatre down tighter against him as he heard and felt the glass of the car shattering, raining down upon them.

"What the fuck?" Quatre gasped, rolling off Trowa into the driver's seat, still keeping his head down even as more gunfire filled the air, shattering more windows. He cranked the car and threw it in drive, squealing tires on his way out of the parking lot.

"What the hell was that?" Trowa demanded, worriedly looking over Quatre for any wounds. He noticed that Quatre was speeding... and heading towards the police department. That was pretty logical, considering what had happened.

"I'm not sure," Quatre said, voice gasping, but still calm. "But I think someone just tried to kill us."

_To be continued...._

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Kandice: If you've actually been interested enough to spend the time to read this... please spare me a moment more and click on the button right beneath this this review. Thanks!


	14. Next To Nothing

_Kandice: Wow.... I am so sorry to everyone who's been reviewing this. I have not checked my email in almost half a year, well... at least not the email all these reviews are sent to. So when I did... wow. There's been a lot of people reviewing. In all honesty, I had forgotten about this story and got caught up in college and all the fun things that entails. I will try to finish this story without the year long gaps, but I cannot promise anything. Thicker Than Blood will be forgotten and taken down. If anyone wants to borrow that idea, feel free. But anyway, enough with the apologies, here's the next chapter of Frayed Edges._

**Frayed Edges**

**Next To Nothing**

"What the fuck, Quat!"

Noin rushed into the Police Department. Quatre sat in a chair, with Sally Po bent over his arm, applying antiseptic and bandaging to the small gash along the back of his shoulder.

"It's nothing, Luce. Just a graze," he soothed her. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Trowa snapped from his seat next to Quatre. "You got yourself *shot* trying to protect me. That was stupid."

Quatre rolled his eyes. Upon discovering the small wound on their way to the PD, Trowa'd not stopped acting like a mother hen. "Look at it this way, Trowa," he said reasonably, "If I hadn't pushed you down... then I would have been sitting up, and this little scratch could have been alot worse."

Trowa, about to object, fell silent. He obviously hadn't considered that scenario.

"Maxwell and Yuy are on their way," Captain Chang said,walking up. "Anything you can tell us about whoever did this?"

Quatre shook his head. "Not much. All I remember seeing is a shadow. It was too dark to see much else."

"And you?" Chang looked at Trowa.

"I didn't see anything."

"Nothing?" A black eyebrow arched.

"My seat was fully reclined. I didn't see anything outside of the car."

Chang's eyes narrowed. "So the two of you were sitting in a dark parking lot, and your seat was all the way reclined, and neither of you could notice someone walking up with a gun? What the hell were you doing out there?"

Quatre shifted in his seat, blushing. Trowa snapped his mouth shut, turning beet red.

"Oh, God, Wufei. You're clueless!" Sally laughed before leaning in and whispering something to him. Wufei's eyes dropped to both Quatre and Trowa's (rather stained and wrinkled) pants before the stoic captain blushed and looked away. "Ah... ah-hem. We'll... we'll just leave that part out of the report, shall we?"

"It was some guy, mid-fourties, named Otto. And he was with someone else and someone payed them to do it." Noin interupted.

"And you know this how?"

"I'm a psychic," she said. "And I often see things that will happen or are happening to the people I'm friends with. I saw Otto, and some other guy, talking about how the 'boss' will be pleased when they 'offed' the blond and the tall guy."

Trowa gulped. He didn't like the sound of someone being out there, wanting him and Quatre dead. As if sensing his friend's unease, Quatre patted his leg.

"It's alright, Trowa. We'll just have to keep an eye out. And hurry up and settle this case. I'd really, really like to meet this Kushrenada character."

"How much you wanna bet he's our mysterious 'boss'?" Trowa asked.

Sally smirked. "Never bet on a sure thing, kid."

"That's pure speculation," Wufei argued.

"Come on, Chang," Sally replied. "This is about the most clean-cut case we've ever had. Maxwell and Yuy are going to totally bust this guy, and you're going to give them the promotion's you promised and everyone's going to live happily ever after."

Noin raised an eyebrow at the blond officer. "If there's one thing I've learned in my life as a clairvoyant... it's that nothing is certain- and there's no such thing as happily ever after."

It didn't take Duo and Heero long to make it to the precinct. After a few moments of speaking between the people in the station, the two officers burst in.

"Chang! They said Winner had been shot?!?"

"I'm FINE!!!" The blond snapped. "It's just a graze!"

"What the hell happened?" Duo demanded.

"Me'n'Trowa were just sitting in the car outside the bowling alley, and someone took a shot through the car window at us. I'm fine, Trowa's fine... just... when you find whoever did this... let us have a crack at them."

Heero nodded. "Will do. And... what were the two of you doing just sitting in the car outside the bowling alley?"

Trowa blushed, and Quatre sighed. "Why does everyone want to know that? Listen good, cause I'm only going to say this once, got it? Trowa's my *boyfriend* and we were doing *boyfriend* things. If you've got a problem with that, then feel free to *build a bridge* and *get over it*."


End file.
